


Where are you, dolly?

by AuroraDefae



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Greaserlock, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-10
Updated: 2013-07-11
Packaged: 2017-12-18 09:44:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/878417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AuroraDefae/pseuds/AuroraDefae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Not sure where this is going, may be renamed.</p>
    </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CaptainOfShips](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainOfShips/gifts).



> Not sure where this is going, may be renamed.

“Rear Window” flashed around the hectic drive-in-movie, and Sherlock snickered at the screams and giggling from the cars around him. He dragged a hand through his hair, making it stick up in his signature curl. Sneaking into these movies and silently wrecking havoc was his gang’s signature. And the large shark tooth and his white shirt marked him as one of the leaders of the Hammerheads.

His rise had been quick; the mind lurking behind his sneering and smirking interior was exceptionally bright- his pranks and tricks were unparalleled.

Cops were always patrolling in case of pranks at the drive in movies, on the look out for the two competing gangs, the Hammerheads and the Riptide. Tonight’s prank would make prank history.

Sherlock felt his face curve into a smile as he sauntered around, stretching his arms above his head, taking in his surroundings.

 

“H-Hey you!”

He abruptly turned around to see a short blonde, dandied up in a buttoned shirt and starched collar run up to him. Sherlock just visibly rolled his eyes and turned back, continuing his walk as he waited to give the signal.

“I’ll call the police! I saw you sneak in!”

“Oh, you’ll call the poli-”

 

_Oh._

The blonde had come closer, and Sherlock could now seem him clearly. He was innocent in a non-touched way, as if someone could reach out and rub a small bit of dirt on him, and all of his innocence would be tarnished.

 

"Wait.. you're Sherlock Holmes! We have English together..."

An unfinished retort died on Sherlock's lips as the ground and air shook.

 

 

His gang had started the prank before he gave the signal.

 

His adrenaline rushing, Sherlock hastily pushed the cube, leaving a smear of grease on his white shirt.

 

"Run!"

 

And Sherlock dashed away before he could respond, diving into the noise and smoke of fireworks.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bear with me. I have writer's block and can't write that well..

“You idiot!”

 

“What were you thinking?”

 

Sherlock felt people, two of them, pulling him back from where Dean was sitting, wiping blood off of his lip. Sherlock just pulled out ot the restraining grips, brushing off his shirt and fixing his hair, tangled from the fight he had started.

 

“Listen, there’s a reason I’m the leader of this pack. And you should follow my orders...unless you wish to challenge me.”

 

The ring of leather jackets hooted and spread back as Dean clambered to his feet. His swollen lips distorted his words, gaining more calls from his gang.

 

“If waz becuse o’ that f'ube. Te fuzz were oon the’ir way.”

 

Sherlock felt his smirk falter as he remembered that scared, deer-in-the-headlights look as the fireworks erupted.

 

“What kind of weak excuse is that? You wait for me,” Sherlock forced out, his fingers reaching for his knife as he stared into Dean’s eyes. “I would not jeopardize the Hammerheads. Now, I'll give you two options. Leave peacefully, or be handed to the riptides."

 

Dean spat at Sherlock's feet, wiping his lip with the back of his hand.

 

"This gang's foing 'o the dogs any'vay."

 

And he turned to leave as everyone stared at him silently. Sherlock spat in his direction, rolling his shoulders.

 

The other member were staring at him, as if expecting other fights to start. Sherlock just took angry breaths before saying, "If any of you guys are going to follow in Dean's footsteps, I would advise you to cut out."

 

They muttered, and some looked at their feet to absently shuffle, but not one of the teenagers moved. Sherlock waited for silence, hearing the mutters die down. Everyone avoided his eyes.

 

He had just opened his mouth to say something when he heard the a mockingbird call. All of them abruptly straightened, listening for the danger.

 

The call came again, more urgent.

 

Sherlock, his mind coming to a realization, half-whispered, half-yelled, “Someone ratted on us! The fuzz is coming! Run!”

 

They all stood for a few seconds, the words sinking in, before they pushed and shoved to get out of the abandoned factory.

  
Outside, dim, buzzing street lamps shone on their retreating figures before darkness enveloped them. Once ascertaining that they were gone, Sherlock ran from the scene, a darkened car pulling up just as he ducked around a dumpster and disappeared into the night. 


End file.
